


we move fast / or time moves slow

by princessmeganerd



Series: i'm a fuse, and i've met my match [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Immortal Fake AH Crew, M/M, Multi, Non-Explicit Sex, though everyone is adults- it's due to immortality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 11:43:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7313926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessmeganerd/pseuds/princessmeganerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A FAHC meet-cute with a supernatural twist, told in four parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we move fast / or time moves slow

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Mavinseg Event on Tumblr!

It was sometimes hard for Gavin to see anyone but his crew as real people. Real people came back from the dead. There was never any chance of losing a real person forever, and so there was no risk in getting attached. His rule was to never love a mortal, and so to never lose.

Obviously, he’d broken that rule many times.

Every member of the crew (which was getting to be fifteen people as it approached its hundred-year anniversary in 2020) carried the ghosts of their birth families, among others. Mica, their youngest member, had only been born in the 1980s, and at least one of her parents was still kicking. Gavin felt awful about the way that was inevitably heading, but at least she’d found the crew faster than he had.

Gavin’s family had died back in 1883, thirty years after he had been born and only five after he himself had died for the first time. The late nineteenth century had been mostly a blur until he’d discovered the film camera in 1899. Suddenly, his life had purpose again. He only wished he could share his films with people, but that way lay fame and scrutiny. He couldn’t afford that when he never aged.

It didn’t stop him from filming anything and everything. He was out on the streets of Los Santos one night in 2012, trying out some new feature that could supposedly film in the dark.

Oddly, one specific man wasn’t showing up in pictures. He showed up in videos fine, but still images seemed to erase him somehow. Gavin was so preoccupied with this dilemma that he almost didn’t notice when a young woman with red hair pickpocketed him.

She was good, he noted. She was walking away casually, showing no sign of nervousness or guilt. Geoff could learn a thing or two from her. He was a damn good boss, but he was much better at large-scale crime than small scale.

In fact, Gavin had first met Geoff by pickpocketing him in 1906. Very luckily, he’d chosen to follow him home out of curiosity and spent an interesting evening trying and failing to seduce him.

Miracle of random miracles, they’d met again exactly ten years later and recognized each other as immortals. Gavin thanked his lucky stars every day that he had Geoff, and by extension their crew.

So he decided to follow this red-haired girl too. He didn’t bother to be stealthy about it. After all, he wasn’t trying to be creepy.

“Excuse me, miss,” he said, giving her his best charming smile. “If it is miss,” he amended, realizing he could have been mentally misgendering her this entire time.

“It is miss,” she confirmed, giving him a very obvious once-over. It took a lot of balls to check out someone you’d just stolen from. Gavin was impressed.

“I believe you just stole my wallet.”

“Ah, shit,” she cursed. “Could’ve sworn I got you. Hey, if I give it back, will you not call the police?” God damn did she ooze confidence.

“Just give me the cards and keep the cash,” he told her. “You did a bang-up job, I feel like you deserve it.” She gave a little delighted laugh.

“Not gonna say no to that.”

“This is probably the most polite crime ever,” Gavin laughed.

“Certainly the most polite one I’ve ever committed,” she agreed. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Gavin.”

“Meg. It’s a pleasure to meet such a handsome…?”

“Man.”

“Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet someone who appreciates the fine art of pickpocketing the way I do. Hey, want to go get something to eat or drink? My treat.” They both laughed.

“Beats my plans for the night.”

Soon enough, they were seated at one of Gavin’s favorite bars, chatting over drinks bought with Gavin’s cash. Normally, Gavin hated talking to strangers, but with Meg, the conversation flowed easily and naturally.

“So why do you steal?”

“Salon trips don’t pay for themselves,” Meg told him, petting her red mane. “Neither does jewelry.” She pointed at her ear, which had at least six different piercings. “They’re all real diamonds.”

“That’s awesome! I like gold, myself.” He showed her his watch and the chain of his creeper necklace.

“You should try a piercing.”

“You’re definitely making me consider them.”

It turned out Meg was an amateur model, and that eventually devolved into Gavin taking sillier and sillier pictures of her. They were a giggling mess by the time they stumbled back out onto the street to have a pickpocketing contest.

It wasn’t clear who’d won- Meg had gotten more cash, but Gavin had gotten more interesting items.

“For you,” he said, presenting her with a pair of sunglasses and a pack of gum.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have.” She dug through one of her wallets until she found something that made her smirk.

“For you,” she repeated, handing Gavin an almost certainly expired condom. He blushed despite himself.

They ended up using a fresh one from a convenience store, still high on the exhilaration of giving all their stolen wallets to a cop sans cash and saying that they’d “found them on the ground.” She rode him in a fairly fancy hotel room, and they emptied the whole minibar before falling asleep in a naked tangle of sheets.

Gavin woke at ten the next morning to a flurry of text messages from his boyfriend and girlfriend and an empty bed. He assured Michael and Lindsay that he’d been getting laid, not murdered, and scrolled through the pictures of Meg from the bar.

Later he found a message written on the mirror in lipstick: “Til we meet again? P.S. I took your shirt.” It was signed with a kiss. He took a shirtless selfie in the mirror before heading home. Who knew? Maybe he could show it to her sometime.

-

Being immortal was what made Lindsay merciful.

For some of her crew, it was the opposite. Living seemingly forever could make life seem like a curse, or a game, or a bore. But to Lindsay, life was just life. Sometimes it sucked, but a lot of the time it was wonderful. She hesitated to take time away from others when she had so much.

She never hesitated very long, though. If some motherfucker chose to misuse their time by hurting her or her family, then it was very likely they might find themselves in front of her gun.

One such motherfucker tried to attack her on an otherwise lovely summer afternoon in 2014. Lindsay was shopping for groceries for Michael’s birthday the next day. She and Geoff had struck upon a system where she shopped and he cooked for any crew event. Ah, running a criminal empire.

Michael and Lindsay both turned 137 that year. Gavin was a good twenty-five years older than them, and often joked about being a cougar, which was kind of stupid at this point. None of them bothered with the correct number of candles any more.

Lindsay was weighing the benefits of different types of garlic when the purple-haired woman to her left squeaked in fear. Lindsay frowned. Vegetables generally weren’t frightening, not since the FDA had gotten their shit together.

Lindsay glanced to her right, and saw straight down the barrel of a gun pointed at her head. Oh, great.

“Are you fucking serious, dude?”

The wielder of the gun looked a little taken aback at her cavalier attitude, even under their ski mask. They were clearly new to Los Santos. Actually, the fact that they were threatening her at all was like a neon sign that said they had moved in, like, last week.

“Yeah, I’m serious! You and your bullshit crew screwed me over, and you’re going to pay, bitch!”

“Wow, rude,” said Lindsay. They were starting to piss her off. “Oh, are you that dealer we dealt with last week?”

“What? No!”

“Oh. You must not have even be worth remembering, then. Unless you’ve got the wrong person? I’m Lindsay Jones. Of the Fake AH Crew?”

“I know who you are! You’re gonna die for this!” They pulled off the safety of the gun dramatically. Normally, this would be a great time to let them shoot her in the head and see how far that got them, but Lindsay was worried they’d hit the purple-haired woman behind her.

Considering her options, Lindsay scanned the shelf in front of her. Ah, perfect. She grabbed a container of garlic cloves and smashed it over her assailant’s head.

She’d meant it as a distraction to let her grab the gun, and it worked better than she could have hoped. The attacker screamed and clawed at their head, dropping the gun outright. Lindsay scooped up the gun and shot them very quickly in the chest before flicking the safety back on and dropping the gun into her grocery basket and heading for the exit.

If the attacker had done their research, it would be a part of the store with no cameras, and if they hadn’t, Lindsay happened to know a few very good hackers. It was honestly a shame that she couldn’t pay for her groceries. She believed in supporting local businesses.

Lindsay was half a block away when she heard a voice calling her name.

“Lindsay?” She turned to see the woman with purple hair jogging to catch up with her.

“Listen, I was saving your life, so don’t think about pressing charges,” she said tiredly.

“Oh, no way! I just wanted to say that was fucking awesome.”

“What?”

“For real! You were doing, like, Buffy the Vampire Slayer levels of snark.”

“Thanks, man,” she said, grinning. It wasn’t often that she got positive feedback on her work.

“I’m Meg,” said the woman, sticking out a hand for Lindsay to shake. Lindsay took it, noticing that her nails had little designs on them.

“You already know my name. But oh my god, your nails are so cute! Are those cats?”

“Yeah! Did them myself!”

“Seems like I’m not the only talented one here,” Lindsay told her.

“Oh, stop it,” Meg giggled. “Well, anyways, don’t let me keep you.”

“Nah, let me walk you someplace,” Lindsay offered impulsively. “Can’t have you getting shot after I just saved your ass.”

“I can take care of myself, but you can save me from boredom,” said Meg. Lindsay understood her impulse not to be seen as a damsel in distress. She’d dealt with it more times than she could count.

“Sounds perfect. Where to?”

“Where’s the nearest grocery store? I didn’t get to finish shopping.”

“I think there’s one like ten blocks north?”

“Lead the way.”

They set off, beginning their chat with what brands of nail polish were best for nail art, and eventually moving on to whether or not the mystery attacker had known they were holding a gun wrong.

It was apparent that they had similar senses of humor, and that they even had similar taste in soft drinks. Lindsay had never met someone who better understood the inherent superiority of Barq’s over Mug root beer.

Ten blocks had never been over so fast. The setting sun made Meg’s hair glow deep purple, and turned her glasses into mirrors. God, Lindsay was bisexual.

Just then, Lindsay’s phone buzzed with what she was sure was a text from Geoff asking where the hell the food was. Lindsay grimaced, reluctant to say goodbye.

“Hey,” said Meg, taking her hand and leaving a lipstick imprint on the back. “Thank you for saving me. From having a boring walk, of course.”

“Of course. Any time.”

“My hero.” Meg leaned forward and kissed her slowly, giving her time to move if she wanted to. She didn’t- first of all, the rational side of her knew that she wasn’t carrying anything of real value that the other woman could steal; and the fun side of her wished more hot girls would decide to reward her with kisses.

Meg ended up pressing her against the wall of the grocery store, somehow more forceful for being the shorter one. Both of them were smiling into the kiss by the time Meg pulled away and disappeared into the grocery store. She blew one last kiss and was gone.

Lindsay blinked, then burst out laughing.

Well, this was gonna make a hell of a story.

-

Michael was lucky beyond words to have not one, not three, but two immortal romantic partners. Lindsay was his wife, had been since the 1930s, though they’d been together long before then. Gavin they had decided to sleep with once in 1947, and he had just never left. At least, that was how they liked to tell it. Privately, all three of them knew they’d been in love long before they acted on it.

All three of them had known bad breakups, and they knew the crew was family for all three of them. They couldn’t exactly get space if they decided to break up. But more than a decade of pining had been too much to take.

Besides, being together didn’t mean they couldn’t be with anyone else, and it didn’t mean they couldn’t take trips away from each other.

All this was true, but it was still incredibly goddamn inconvenient that Gavin had chosen March of 2016 to go visit fucking England.

“This is literally the only time I need you to physically be here,” Michael yelled into the phone. “What the fuck do you think “resident crew thief” even means?!”

“Calm down,” said Gavin, infuriatingly unaffected by his shouting. “You know it’s important for me to keep up international crew relations.”

“I know it’s important to have my so-called boyfriend on this heist.”

“Aww, Michael.”

“Don’t “Aww, Michael” me!”

“Calm down,” said Lindsay. “We can hire someone else. It isn’t the end of the world.”

“Hmph,” Michael grumbled. “I hope you have a terrible time in fucking Nowhereshire. I love you, bye.”

“Love you too, boi.”

Lindsay was clearly trying not to laugh at him, so Michael stuck out his tongue at her and left their room, heading out into the main crew “office.” The only ones there were Jeremy and Ryan, watching some random movie on the flatscreen.

“Do either of you know of any good thieves?” Michael asked.

“Gavin,” said Jeremy.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Have you heard of Dollface?” suggested Ryan. Michael shook his head. “She’s kind of been making a name for herself these days.”

“Can we trust her?”

“As much as you can trust anyone,” Ryan replied enigmatically.

“Like, does she have a history of screwing people over?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Let me check criminal Yelp,” interjected Jeremy.

“You’re such a little shit, J.” Michael supposed this Dollface would have to do until his boyfriend came back.

“Gavin will come back,” said Ryan, eerily guessing what Michael was thinking.

“See if I care.”

For what it was worth, Dollface was perfect on the heist. She was charming, smooth, and able to roll with the punches, and she did it with 50% less bird noises. Somehow she made blue hair seem perfectly normal and outrageously pretty in turns- whatever the situation demanded. She was able to negotiate her cut a little higher than they had originally agreed on, of course, but only by about as much as Michael expected.

The heist itself was less than perfect. Michael and Dollface were in the middle of their escape when a fleet of police cars cut them off.

“Oh, shit!” yelled Michael. “How the fuck did they know we’d be here?”

“Uhh,” came Jack’s voice over the comm. “I may have accidentally let someone call 911.”

“God dammit, Jack.” Michael turned to Dollface, who was looking a little nervous in the passenger seat. “Sorry. My crewmate is usually much less of an IDIOT, and she usually TAKES CARE OF THINGS.”

“It’s fine-“

“No, it’s not. We’re being so unprofessional,” Michael groaned.

“Hand me your gun.”

“What?”

“You drive, I’ll shoot.”

“You sure? We didn’t hire you for that.”

“You can pay me extra. I just want to get out of here alive.” Michael swallowed guiltily. It sucked to bring mortals on jobs for exactly this reason. Michael passed her the gun without any further comment.

Gritting his teeth, Michael yanked the car into a hard left. Dollface took the opportunity to fire about eight shots at their pursuers.

“How many are left?”

“Three cars still with drivers, I think.”

“But there were like nine cars total.”

“Yeah.”

Michael glanced over at her. She was biting her lip.

“You’re an insanely good shot.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“How come that’s not what you do all the time?”

“Stealing is more fun,” she said matter-of-factly. “Pays better.” Michael gawked for so long that he almost mowed down a mailbox.

“Do you have a partner?” he asked. “Because I have two, but we’re in an open relationship.”

“Hold on.” She yanked open the skylight of the car and stood up in her seat. Michael counted three more shots. “You were saying?”

“I’m saying you seem really fucking cool and that I’m, y’know, I’m interested if you are. Or that I just appreciate your skills as a platonic colleague if I’m out of line here. Jesus, you really got all three of them on one try.”

Dollface laughed, which seemed like a good sign that Michael wasn’t being too forward.

“You really have a boner for violence, don’t you?” Before he could respond, she winked at him and casually shot a stop sign that they were rushing past.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “What’d you shoot that for?”

“Go back and look at it real quick.” As this took only a quick reverse and Michael was sure the cops were scared shitless, he complied. A perfect bullet hole sat in the middle of the “O” in “STOP.”

“Are you flirting with me?” he asked her.

“Take a wild guess.” He grinned and floored the gas, unable to keep himself from whooping as they barreled down the street.

Michael pulled over on to the side of a fairly busy road once he was sure no one else was coming after them. It was crowded enough that he hoped Dollface would feel safe with him, but secluded enough that no one was likely to interrupt.

“Okay, so. First of all, you’re getting like 25% of my cut for those skills. Second of all, and absolutely unrelated to me giving you money, do you want to make out with me in the backseat?”

In response, Dollface fiddled with his seat until it was reclining as far as it could go and climbed onto his lap.

“Front seat. Okay.” They kissed, each fierce and aggressive in equal measure.

“Mogar,” came Jack’s voice over the comm. “You’re alive and you want privacy, right? Take out your earpiece before I record this and post the audio file in the group chat.” Michael blushed and deactivated his comm as Dollface laughed.

“I took out mine five minutes ago,” she told him, smirking. “I’m Meg, by the way,” she panted into his ear before sucking a hickey into his collarbone.

“Michael,” he managed, running a hand over her ass.

Decades of practice let him fairly easily get her off with just his hand stuck up under her skirt at their somewhat awkward angle. She was gorgeous above him, her chest heaving and her hair sticking to her neck with sweat.

When she reached to return the favor, Michael let her unzip his pants but kept his briefs on.

“I’d rather ruin these than try to clean jizz out of this car,” he admitted.

“I can work with that,” Meg assured him, and true to her word, Michael came almost embarrassingly fast.

When they got back to the agreed rendezvous point to divide up the takings for the heist, Jack gave Michael an odd look for all the extra money he handed to Meg, but he waved her off.

“Nice job,” he told Meg admiringly. She gave him a look that made his face burn red and Jack roll her eyes.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Jack muttered before grabbing her shit and leaving.

“Thanks, Michael.”

“Can I have your number?”

“Doesn’t your crew already have it?”

“I mean, can I have your personal number? Or some way of contacting you myself? If you didn’t notice I think you’re pretty great, and I want to see you again. If that’s alright.”

“Oh! Sure.” She dictated her number and Michael carefully saved it into his phone.

“You should meet my wife and my boyfriend sometime. I think you’d really get along.”

“You have a type, huh?”

“I guess so.”

She left, clicking away in heels, which Michael hadn’t even noticed she had been wearing the entire time.

It was going to take a lot of restraint not to just call her tomorrow.

-

Meg prided herself on being self-sufficient.

She’d grown up with nothing in the way of money or family, so she’d had to learn fast. At 12, she began stealing wallets and doing her own hair. At 20, she was a part-time model and a freelance criminal for hire. At 28, she was Dollface, renowned assassin, thief and general femme fatale.

Perhaps she still lacked a family, but she certainly had plenty of money.

She walked the streets of Los Santos with confidence late into the night, sure she could take down anything that stood in her way. Nothing could surprise or shock her- wait, was that…?

A familiar head of curly-reddish brown hair was rounding the corner. The leather jacket confirmed it: it was Michael, the famed Mogar of the Fake AH Crew. They’d been in touch a few times since the heist, but their schedules had never meshed enough for another date.

“Michael!” He whipped around at the sound of her voice, eyes lighting up once he saw her.

“Meg!” She waited as he jogged up to her, looking like nothing so much as an excited puppy. “How’ve you been?”

“Great,” she answered truthfully. Before she could ask him, he turned around and motioned to two people behind them. Meg supposed they had been walking with him. Actually, they looked pretty familiar…

“Meg?!” they chorused. It was Lindsay, the woman who’d saved her at the grocery store, and Gavin, who had complimented her on her pickpocketing. Was Meg dreaming?

“Wait, you know her?” asked Michael, who sounded as confused as she was.

“I didn’t know y’all knew her!” said Lindsay. “She’s that girl from the grocery store that one time.”

“You mean the time you wouldn’t shut up about being her hero for like a week?” said Gavin, who was still as bafflingly British as ever. Lindsay smacked him, looking embarrassed. “Ow! But I went on a date with her one time, like, four years ago,” Gavin added. “She’s a damn genius thief.”

“No shit! She’s Dollface,” Michael said. The other two gasped, which Meg had to admit puffed her ego up quite a bit.

“They your partners?” Meg asked, finally getting a word in edgewise.

“Yes!” said Michael, looking very proud. “How come you two only saw her the once?”

“I never got her number,” Gavin admitted.

“Me either.”

“Goddamn, you two are idiots.” Meg was sort of feeling like an idiot herself. She’d heard of all three of them before- the Fakes were famous- but she’d somehow never connected them to the people she’d met, or to each other. Then again, they were famous by their code names, just as she was. There had to be some measure of anonymity, even in a place like Los Santos.

“This is so weird!” was what Meg said out loud, but what she was thinking was: this has got to be some kind of magic.

“What a coincidence,” agreed Lindsay. Gavin held up his phone, and the other three recoiled in surprise to see the Meg of four years ago smiling at the camera.

“How do you still have that?”

“I never delete anything,” Gavin explained. Meg took the phone and scrolled through the shots of her until she stopped short at Gavin’s mirror selfie, her lipstick scrawled across his chest. She laughed delightedly.

“Til we meet again, indeed.” He smiled sheepishly, and Meg kind of wanted to kiss him. Instead she merely handed back the phone and bit her lip. It was intimidating to see the three of them, clearly so comfortable with each other and all honestly scary people in their own right.

“We have got to call you,” Michael insisted.

“I’m for it,” said Lindsay.

“Yeah,” said Gavin, but he seemed a little more reluctant than his partners. Meg frowned.

“We have to go for now, but expect a call,” Michael assured her. “God, that sounded so formal. Uh, we’re gonna hit you up.”

“You’re a dork,” Lindsay giggled.

“I look forward to it,” said Meg, giving Gavin one last sideways glance. He was staring at the ground. Hmm, so what. She definitely liked him, but two out of three wasn’t bad. She’d figure out the details later. For now, they parted with excited smiles and the promise of something bigger.

-

As soon as Meg was out of earshot, Lindsay poked Gavin in the ribs. He recoiled.

“Stop hitting me!”

“What the fuck was that? Do you not like her?” she demanded.

“No, I do.”

“Then why was the ground such a goddamn fascination?”

“I…” Gavin began. He sighed. “She’s mortal.” Lindsay took a step back.

“Yeah,” she said slowly.

“Does it really matter?” asked Michael.

“You know it does. I don’t know about you boys, but she seemed like girlfriend material to me.”

“She is pretty damn good in bed,” Michael said, trying to lighten the mood.

“I have to agree with that,” said Gavin.

“Wait, you both got to fuck her and I didn’t? Why is nothing in life fair?”

“I don’t know,” said Gavin, sounding miserable. “We’re really lucky to have each other.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Michael, but he wrapped his arms around Gavin anyway. Lindsay joined them, and the three of them all seemed to sigh at once.

-

Meg could handle anything.

Her attacker was bleeding from the gunshot wound she’d just inflicted to his leg. He groaned and attempted to staunch the flow with his hands.

“It’s not very nice to try to bite people,” Meg told him. “Maybe don’t do that in the future, okay? Not all girls are as kind as I am. The leg is not bad at all, considering.”

He just growled. Ugh, it was so typical that this would happen like three blocks after she’d run into Michael, Gavin, and Lindsay. It was really putting a damper on her night. Oh well. She’d go home and enjoy a bath bomb.

She was only about a hundred steps away when he attacked again. She shouted in surprise, wriggling to escape, but he was a lot stronger than he looked.

Catching a glimpse of his leg, she saw traces of blood, but otherwise healthy skin. That… was genuinely worrying.

He went for her neck again, and this time she was powerless to stop him. God damn it. This was not how she’d wanted to go.

Was he drinking her blood? That was pretty fucked up. Meg almost had to laugh at her own inner monologue, or maybe she was just getting woozy from blood loss.

At some point, she realized that he’d stopped sucking on her neck and was now… dripping his blood into her mouth? What the actual fuck? Meg was slipping in and out of consciousness, but she had enough strength to wonder if her corpse would look good on the news.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!” The voice was very loud but seemed very far away. Dimly, Meg was aware of the sounds of violence being done, and arms scooping her up.

“I got you,” said a British voice. Meg wanted to giggle, or maybe to cry, but all she could do was lay there.

A blink later, she was in a car, streetlights rushing past the windows upside-down.

Another blink: she was in a bright room, surrounded by what seemed like sixteen people.

“He bit her-“

“He was fucking hard to kill. Michael had to stab him in the heart-“

“You’re messing with me, Geoff-“

“She’s looking a little better.” With a start, Meg realized that they meant her. She actually was feeling better. Realizing this, she promptly fell back asleep.

She had no idea how much time had passed when she woke again, but only Michael, Lindsay, Gavin, and a man with an impressive mustache were in the room with her this time.

“So you’ve seen vampires before?” Michael was asking.

“When you’re as old as me, kid, you see some shit,” said the man darkly. He only looked about forty to Meg, but that didn’t seem to bother anyone else.

“How did this never come up?” demanded Lindsay.

“You never asked.”

“Dammit, Geoff.”

“This is why you’re the boss now, Lindsay.”

“Hey,” said Gavin. “Is it true that they don’t show up in pictures? Because I feel like I’ve tried to photograph people who just didn’t appear before.”

“Oh, yeah, basically any myth about them is true. Actually, Twilight got a lot right,” said Geoff. “They really do sparkle in the sun.“

“That’s fucking crazy,” scoffed Michael.

“Coming from an immortal,” Geoff pointed out. It was in this moment that Meg’s throat decided to spontaneously dry up and make her start coughing.

Michael was immediately by her side, looking concerned and adorable.

“‘Bout time you woke up,” he said, but she could tell he was relieved to see her.

“Uhh,” she managed.

“We have good news and bad news,” said Geoff. “Good news: you’re not dead. Bad news: you’re a vampire.”

“Way to not soften that at all,” Michael complained. “But yeah, he’s right.”

“That’s why that cocksucker didn’t let me just shoot him?”

“Yeah,” said Gavin. “You were well brave, though.”

“It’s just lucky that we followed you,” said Lindsay. “That asshole is so dead, you wouldn’t believe.”

Meg was having trouble processing a few things. One: vampires were real. Two: she was one of them. Three: Lindsay, Michael, and Gavin had cared enough to murder someone for her. Four: the man nervously fiddling with his bowtie was most likely Geoff Ramsey, the criminal king of Los Santos. Five: the other inhabitants of this room were immortal.

“Immortal?”

“Oh,” said Geoff. “Yeah. Long story short, none of us can die.”

“Not for lack of trying,” muttered Gavin.

“And neither can you, now,” Geoff continued. “Or at least not in most ways.”

“Well, that solves one problem,” said Gavin.

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Lindsay. “Get some rest.”

-

Perhaps six hours later, Meg pushed herself out of bed. She’d dozed on and off, alternately thinking and dreaming.

Okay. So she was a vampire. It… didn’t actually change her lifestyle that much. It didn’t seem to have made her into a demon. Perhaps she’d been immoral enough to start off with. In fact, what she was going to miss most was appearing in photos and mirrors.

Whatever. She knew she was beautiful, and now she had an eternity to bless the world with that beauty. She kind of dug the sparkly look. Maybe she could inspire a new fashion trend.

Now all she had to do was find a regular source of blood, and possibly sort out her love life.

As if on cue, Gavin appeared in the doorway. They must be in some kind of Fake AH hideout if everyone had been able to linger for so long.

“How’s being a vampire?” he asked.

“You know? It’s alright. Thank you for killing that guy, though.”

“Oh, I didn’t do anything. That was all Michael and Lindsay.”

“From what I understand you’re a package deal.”

“Well, yeah.”

“It didn’t seem like you were on board earlier,” she said softly. “Please don’t feel pressured to like me just because they do.”

“I don’t. I just didn’t want to get you if I was going to lose you. Lindsay, Michael and I, we’re all over a hundred years old. We’ve lost a lot of people we loved.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I think we could use a little change around here. ’S what keeps life interesting, right?”

“You’re right about that.”

“Now that we’re through that… let me ask you properly. Meg, would you like to go out with us?” Meg couldn’t help but grin.

“Yes, you cute moron.”

Gavin stepped forward to kiss her, and Meg held up her hands to stop him.

“What?”

“I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you,” she said, pointing at her teeth. Gavin laughed.

“I’d like to see you try. Immortal, remember? Besides, Geoff says that I’d have to drink your blood too in order for you to turn me. Bite off my face if you want.”

“Maybe I will,” she teased. “It is a nice face. Or… I could just do this.”

They kissed, and while the scent of his blood was distracting, Meg was able to keep herself under control. Meg picked Gavin up, testing her newfound strength.

“This is pretty sweet,” she had to admit, carrying him bridal-style into the next room. Michael and Lindsay sat on a couch, trying hard not to look like they’d just been eavesdropping.

“I said yes,” she told them, setting Gavin down and striding over to sit between them.

“Yes!” said Michael, pumping his fist in the air. Meg kissed him and Lindsay in turn.

“I have a feeling my life is gonna be really fun from here on out,” she mused.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

Sure, it was early days. Sure, she had chosen some of the most notorious criminals in the world. Sure, she was undead.

But Meg was pretty sure she’d found a family.

“Selfie!” yelled Gavin, leaning forward over the back of the couch to get them all in frame. Meg was surprised to see herself reflected in the viewscreen.

“How am I showing up there?”

“Dunno.” Gavin took the picture. She was gone. He poked at a few settings, then pointed the camera at them again, this time recording a video.

“Dude! Looks like videos don’t count,” said Lindsay. Miraculously, Meg watched herself in the playback.

“Okay, that settles it. Being a vampire is upgraded from okay to amazing.”

“Video selfie!” called Michael.

All four of them smiled for the camera.

**Author's Note:**

> Three hair colors, three partners! Also- just couldn't take modeling away from Meg entirely. She gets a pretty sweet deal here, all things considered.
> 
> This was originally posted on Tumblr @givemeyourprincesses- you can go there to check out the sequel I'll be posting here soon.


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